Chapter Thirty-Four: Message in a Bottle

The base was empty as he stalked its halls, weapon drawn. Everyone else was gone. It was up to him now. A shadow played across the wall of an adjacent hallway. Sticking close to the wall for cover, he followed the direction it had gone into a darkened area. Carefully making his way through the darkness, he felt a rush of air as something passed by him at high speed. Damn it, his quarry was messing with him in here! A pitter-patter of footsteps retreated down an unseen corridor, and against his better judgement, he gave chase. His pursuit led him back to the light, he found himself in an unfamiliar place.

"It's what he wants, you know," a soft feminine voice sounded. Reflexively aiming his weapon before turning to regard it, he found himself facing a certain familiar someone, who was, incidentally, pointing a weapon directly at him.

"Drop your weapon!" he ordered sternly.

"I am not, nor will I ever be your enemy," she replied.

The echo of his promise made him hesitate. As he was about to issue a second call for compliance, a hulking mass erupted from the shadows behind her, throwing her aside violently, her body making a sickening sound against the wall.

"NOOOO!" he found himself yelling, firing a round into the interloper. A satisfying thwack and a spray of liquid indicated that his shot had hit its mark, but the newcomer did not fall. Instead, it turned to face him. A face of death greeted him, regarding him with orbs of green fire. Even with its decayed features, the remains of its mouth were twisted into a sickening grin. He was confused. He was certain he'd never seen such a thing before in his life, but at the same time, he felt a sense of recognition... and dread. This couldn't be!

Frightened now, he fired another round directly into its forehead. It didn't even flinch. Instead, it began to approach him.

"Come on, die!" He fired three more rounds into it with substantially less accuracy. "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?" he shrieked in a panic as he emptied the clip. He reached to his vest to reload, but to his dismay found the magazine pouches empty. In the next instant, the handle of his gun became unbearably hot to the touch and he dropped it in shock. To his horror, his trusty sidearm melted into a puddle of molten goop on the floor before his very eyes. He tried to produce his knife, but the same thing happened to it.

Backing up in a panic now as the terrible figure marched slowly ever closer, he lost his balance and fell on his rear. Taking to scooting away backwards on all fours like a crab, he managed to put a little more distance between himself and the monstrosity before feeling his back press against the wall. Using it to balance himself, he began to stand upright again, looking for an escape path. The horrible thing stopped his advance for a moment, then said something in a dark and sinister voice. The emblems on his uniform burst into flame, swirling away as ashes as they burned. Frantically swatting at the flames, he found they would could not be extinguished. When they had burned the symbols away, they spread outward over the rest of his clothing until he was completely ablaze. He felt excruciating pain all over. He was screaming. When he could take no more, he dropped to his knees and fell forward to the floor in a manner eerily not too dissimilar from prayer.

The heat of the flames subsided, and he could feel that he had been burned naked. He was vulnerable in every sense of the term. A bony foot stopped immediately in front of him. He looked up into the glowing green eyes of the Eldritch monstrosity, trembling in fear. It regarded him back for a moment before diving in for the kill. Rather than impacting flesh on flesh, the horrible creature seemed to phase into his body, filling him with the worst form of feelings imaginable. His very skin bubbled and his bones seemed to burn, yet all he could muster was a series of loud whimpers. Shaking uncontrollably, he noticed the area around him beginning to glow the same sickly green color as its eyes had been. Another jolt of pain and he threw his head back towards the ceiling. His eyeballs felt like they would burst. Slowly, the edges of his vision began to cloud in what looked like green smoke, expanding at an alarming rate. In the center of the sea of green that was consuming his vision, he could barely make out a golden bird. Spreading its wings, it opened its beak and spoke. That is, he knew it was speaking but he couldn't understand what it was saying over the dreadful noise that was now filling his ears. As the haze finally overtook his vision completely, he screamed a final time, then-

Warren jolted awake in a cold sweat. He had the feeling he'd awoken from a particularly disturbing nightmare, but try as he might, he could not remember what exactly had happened. There was... fire and death, yes, but that was hardly new to his dreams. He was no stranger to nightmares, see. Nearly every night he found himself tormented by phantoms of his old world. But those memories were always familiar. This was different. There was a figure... something terrifying but whose details he could not bring forth. Everything felt familiar and yet so distant. He tried to concentrate, to remember more, but to no avail. The dream was gone.

Marceline unzipped herself from within the body bag she sometimes used as a sleeping bag. Still lulling somewhere between sleep and full consciousness, she felt odd. It was as though her mind and body were coming out of a dream, but she couldn't remember who or what it was about. Dismissing the feeling as morning fatigue, she carefully folded the bag back up neatly.

She had allowed Finn the use of her bed since her couch was so uncomfortable. Though not too uncomfortable for Jake, it would seem, who had passed out on it the instant they had arrived and was continuing to sleep soundly judging by his soft snoring. It was only around 4 AM, but considering they had arrived in the late afternoon the day prior and went straight to rest, she thought it was probably a safe bet that Finn at least would be rested by now.

Heading to her room and easing the door open, she was surprised to find that he, too was sound asleep. Seemed the guy needed his rest more than he admitted to. Smiling softly, she silently slipped the body bag under the bed and took a closer look at Finn's sleeping form. He wore his trademark hat even as he slept, but a few golden strands of his hair poked through. He seemed peaceful in his rest. That was good. He deserved peace. His eyelids were fluttering, though not opened.

He's dreaming.

Although she was itching with curiosity as to the content of his dream, she felt awkward just kind of floating there, watching him sleep. Deciding to take the high road and be respectful of the young man's privacy, he turned to float away and leave him to his dreamy slumber.

"Marcy..." he mumbled. She froze. Silently turning around, it became clear that he was still asleep and dreaming. Finn talked in his sleep? And he was dreaming about her?

Her better judgment told her to stick to her original plan and leave quietly, but it was much easier thought than done. Despite having no contact with the ground whatsoever, she felt glued to the spot, as it were. An odd tingling sensation ran up and down her spine, and once again she found herself consciously noticing her lack of a heartbeat.

"Marcy, I..." he continued.

Strictly speaking she didn't need to breathe to survive but she tended to anyways out of latent instinct. Only now she realized she wasn't doing that, either.

"I'm sorry, Marcy," he groaned a little louder.

Marceline felt her spirit sink into her gut. This was not a pleasant dream. She watched in mild horror as his breathing pace increased. Then he began to twitch.

"No!" he moaned. Now he was rolling around violently. "No!"

"Finn!" she called out in concern.

Suddenly the motions stopped his eyes shot open. They seemed to glow gold faintly for an instant, but when Marceline blinked the glow was gone and she figured it must have been an illusion. He blinked a few times, then scanned his surroundings before his eyes rested on her.

"What's up?" he asked in a tired voice.

"I... I came in to put my sleeping bag away and you were having some kind of nightmare," she explained.

"I was?"

"Yeah. You were talking in your sleep and thrashing around like someone put ants in your pajamas."

"Huh. I don't remember dreaming anything. Weird," he finished the last word on a yawn.

Marceline floated for a moment, her face contorted in confusion. If he was up, she should give him some privacy to get ready or to go back to sleep.

"Okay. I was just a little worried, I guess. I'll go eat some breakfast or something."

"Wait!" he called out almost instantaneously and possibly a bit more urgently than he intended. She saw a small blush form underneath his cheeks before he cleared his throat to speak again. "There was something I wanted to ask you, you know, in private. If... that's alright?"

Floating down into a sitting position by the side of the bed, she looked into Finn's eyes and nodded a silent 'yes.'

"Do you-" He hesitated. Contorting his face as though thinking better of asking and coming up with another question, he continued. "I didn't say anything weird in my sleep, did I?"

"No, Finn. Was that really what you wanted to ask me, though?" she pressed.

"Well, no. I... uh... It's just..." Finn's face was redder than a tomato now. "You're a really great friend. And I wanted to say thank you," he said, unconvincingly.

Marceline frowned a little. There was obviously something he wanted to say, but she didn't want to force it out of him. Glob knew that bitch LSP had given him enough force for a lifetime. Hurting Finn was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to hold him tight. To wrap him into a passionate embrace and spill her feelings for him, but she had to hold back. For all she knew, Finn was embarrassed about something else entirely and her hopes of this being a confession of his mutual attraction was entirely wishful thinking.

"You're a really great friend, too. We've been through a lot together, and you've made my life a lot better than it was before we met. I'd go anywhere by your side," she said softly and sincerely.

"Yeah, uh... Well, I guess we should get going," he said abruptly. "If we leave soon we can get most of the way there before the sun comes up, and you shouldn't have to spend so much time in the sun on my account." He was always so sweet and considerate like that...

She left her hero behind to get changed, taking a quick bathroom break and then making her way back to the living room, she found that Jake was now up as well.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

She got no response. Instead, he stood stock still and had a blank expression, as though lost in thought.

"Is everything alright, Jake?" Finn asked tentatively, surprising Marceline with the uncanny rapidity at which he had prepared himself.

"What? Oh! Yeah. Just a weird dream I had or something," Jake replied dismissively.

"A weird dream?" Marceline asked, intrigued. "What was it about?"

"I don't remember," Jake replied. "Must not have been important."

But as they prepared to depart for their interview, Marceline couldn't help but feel that it was important. All three of them had definitely experienced something unusual. Unfortunately, it would have to remain a mystery for another day.